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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107110">I Could Scream Forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hholme1995/pseuds/hholme1995'>hholme1995</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherhood of Steel (Fallout), F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Not Ashamed, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:22:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hholme1995/pseuds/hholme1995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly this is just Paladin Danse x Female Sole Survivor trash. I'm trash for having written it. Enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She didn’t like to talk about the past. No, he was already wrong, she didn’t like to talk AT ALL. She’d respond to questions, she’d answer when spoken to, she’d ask a question if she absolutely needed clarification, but otherwise Reagan didn’t speak. It made the others uncomfortable, Danse knew that. Rhys had immediately complained about it, said she didn’t have the “right temperament” for the team, called her a dangerous “lone wolf” type, and probably a chem fiend to boot. Haylen was gentler, but still concerned. But ultimately, they were alone out here, they needed help, and so he had offered her a place with them. </p>
<p>Reagan had come a long way from the pale, soft, frightened vault dweller he’d met a few months ago. She’d picked up the skills of their order fairly quickly, and although he had inducted her for battle, in different times, she’d be better suited as a scribe. She was faster than Haylen on a terminal, and her knowledge of old technology was better than any Knight he knew. Even so, she was skilled with her weapon, and nimble enough that her weakness in up close combat was mostly a nonissue. He had gotten used to drawing the attention of their enemies while she flanked them. They were a good team. At least, they were a good team in combat. In private she was still so...closed to everyone. At first, he had enjoyed it. So many new recruits were so eager to impress their sponsor that they’d babble, trying to unnaturally forge a relationship prematurely. Her silence had been a lovely change of pace. But they’d been working together for months now. He’d saved her from enemy gunfire more times than he could count, and she’d done the same for him, and yet he still knew almost nothing about her. He knew exactly three things about her: she was from a vault, her husband had died, her son had been stolen. He knew these were deeply personal things, that they were fundamental to her, but it was still a miniscule amount of information. It needed to change, he needed to understand the woman at his back. </p>
<p>Danse decided to try his luck after a forced march through a miserable storm. When they had come across the abandoned shack, Reagan had literally laughed with relief, he hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. And then he recalled how tiring cross country travel was out of power armor. He’d hung up some burlap over the open panels of the shack, keeping out the worst of the rain. She laid out their bedrolls near an old hotplate she had rigged up. The heat was minimal, but better than nothing. As he pulled out their dinner for the night from his knapsack, a couple cans of cram and some Nuka Cola, Reagan cleared her throat awkwardly. </p>
<p>“Hmm?” he looked up at her, questioningly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Paladin Danse, do you mind if I uh...” she let her sentence trail off, and gestured at her soaking wet clothes. Danse noticed for the first time that she was shivering. Of course, she was probably freezing in those wet clothes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course soldier,” he said “get out of those wet clothes, I’ll wait outside.” He started to rise, to give her some privacy, when she spoke. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded him, placing her hand on his shoulder and pushing him to sit down, “It’s still pouring out there, you’ll get as cold as me, we’re soldiers it’s fine.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We may be soldiers, and it may be fine, but I still want to give you privacy if I can, I’ll close my eyes.” As he shut his eyes, he saw Reagan suppress a smile as a tint of pink color came into her cheeks. A few moments later she spoke to him again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m covered.” He opened his eyes and saw her curled up in her bedroll, suitably dressed in some black thermal underwear, her wet clothes hung over a beam in the shack. He nodded and returned to preparing their dinner as she lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. She was silent, as usual, as they ate. He tried to think of a good way to start a conversation, some way to get her to respond beyond what was merely required, to try and actually get her talking. She was sitting in the corner of the shack, smoking, her can of cram only half eaten. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Soldier, you need to finish your rations, you won’t be as effective in combat without proper caloric intake.” Danse internally chastised himself. He wanted to get her talking and so he went “full commander” and critiqued her. Great. He saw a flicker of annoyance flash over her mouth as she put out her cigarette and dutifully finished her can of cram, although he could tell she didn’t enjoy it. Almost immediately, she whipped out a new cigarette and leaned back into her corner, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. She enjoyed smoking nearly as much as Maxon. Danse himself, had never quite warmed to it. He decided to try and get her talking again. Danse cleared his throat, and Reagan opened her eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Paladin?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We need to discuss something.” </p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“It’s about your manner of communication.”</p>
<p>“Elaborate?” </p>
<p>He groaned softly, rubbing his hands into his eyes. She was being monosyllabic, as usual. This is precisely what bothered the other Brothers and Sisters (outside Maxon of course, he couldn’t care less if she never spoke, as long as she’d bring him his favorite brand of cigars from Diamond City). </p>
<p>“It’s that. What you’re doing right now. You need to be more conversational with your fellow soldiers.” </p>
<p>“Why?” </p>
<p>“Because,” and he sighed, somewhat exasperated, “because it’s normal, because it’s how you build relationships with your fellow soldiers, because people are uncomfortable with how quiet you are.” She took another drag on her cigarette, and tapped the fingers of her unoccupied hand on her knee. </p>
<p>“How important is this?” </p>
<p>“Consider it an order. Talk more.” </p>
<p>“About what?” </p>
<p>“About yourself, about others, about anything, about nothing. Just talk.” Why was this so hard for her? She had been married, she had a child, she must know how to talk with people. </p>
<p>“I have nothing to say” she said sharply, and for the first time ever he heard a hard edge in her voice. </p>
<p>“You’re angry. Why are you angry?” Danse was surprised, he had never seen her truly angry. </p>
<p>“I’m not angry,” she said angrily. </p>
<p>“You will tell me.” he said firmly, they were going to solve this now, no matter what, “I am your superior, I have put my name on the line for you, and I have saved your life more times than I can count. You will tell me why you are upset, and why you don’t talk, and you will tell me right now. That’s an order.” He could see the blood rushing into her cheeks and the hand that had been resting against her knee softly clenched into a fist. She crushed her cigarette in her hand and he flinched as he imagined the embers burning her palm. </p>
<p>“Why am I angry?” she whispered, and her voice was full of venom, “because my world is DEAD” He could hear her teeth grind together, and her eyes were shining with wetness.<br/>
“Everyone I ever knew, everything about my world, is gone. My parents, my neighbors, my coworkers, are all dead,” a tear escaped her eyes and she wiped it away harshly. </p>
<p>“Your world?” he said with confusion, “your parents were in the vault with you?” She laughed bitterly, her hands shaking as she reached for a new cigarette. </p>
<p>“Did I ever tell you what the vault was like Danse?” she laughed more, as her hands fumbled with the lighter, “did I tell you how it worked? Didn’t you ever wonder?” He had, in fact, wondered about her vault. He had always been curious about them, about people from those environments preserved from the fallout. </p>
<p>“I did always wonder, but I wanted to respect your privacy Knight.” She laughed sharply. </p>
<p>“But now fuck my privacy right?” she brought the cigarette to her lips, “I wasn’t born in the vault you know.” He was confused now, more confused than before. </p>
<p>“I don’t understand” </p>
<p>“I’m an original Danse, the last fucking gasp of a dead world,” she took a deep drag on her cigarette and her voice came out shaky as she tried to control herself, “I was there when the bombs fell, I was there Danse.” </p>
<p>“But you’re...you’re not a ghoul, you can’t be that old, you can’t be nearly....” he couldn’t finish. It just couldn’t be true, she couldn’t be nearly two hundred years old. </p>
<p>“They froze us,” she said bitterly, “like a fucking TV-dinner, sorry, you wouldn’t know what that is would you? Nobody can even understand what I mean when I talk in this fucked up world.” </p>
<p>“They froze you.” he repeated, still not quite believing what he was hearing. </p>
<p>“Yes...and then I woke up and...” her voice softened and she didn’t bother to stop the tears now, “and it was all gone Danse. It was all gone,” her voice took on a hysterical tone now, and she spoke quickly, tears streaming down her face, “every human being I had ever known had died, the world I had known was burned and gone, and I was the only thing left. And it was such hell Danse, you can’t imagine the hell,” she was speaking very quickly now, it was hard to even make out the words, “my neighbors had a dog who would come greet me before I drove to work and that dog was dead and everyone I knew at the military base was dead, and my client, a deserter a real fucker, he was dead, and God I wanted to be dead, God I want to die Danse.” She became incoherent then, crying and shaking so hard that he couldn’t make out any words. </p>
<p>This was....Danse didn’t know how to deal with this. How do you deal with someone mourning the death of their entire civilization? He couldn’t imagine a grief that large. But as he looked at her across the shack, shaking and sobbing and utterly out of control, he remembered Scribe Haylen. Her grief, at having to put down a suffering soldier, had been smaller, many magnitudes smaller, but maybe what had helped her, would help Reagan too. He rose gently, and moved to Reagan, sitting in front of her. Slowly, he reached his arms towards her, and laid his hands softly on her shoulders. She didn’t push him away, so he moved again, putting one arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder and neck and kept crying. He held her tightly and rubbed her back. </p>
<p>“I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.” she cried raggedly between sobs. Danse had no answer to this, but held her tighter.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More garbage</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was around two hours before she stopped crying. Before she had exhausted herself into silence, and merely sat quietly in his lap, resting her face in the crook of his neck. Danse made no effort to move, mostly because he didn’t know how to deal with this aftermath. Scribe Haylen had spared him from this awkwardness, she had left the moment she stopped crying, but Reagan had made no attempt to move. So he didn't either, and kept her in his arms. As he sat, he worried. Would this ruin their partnership? He wanted to get to know her, and he had learned more than he’d bargained for. Would she even want to be around him after this? She was proud, he knew that about her, she wouldn’t want someone to see her like this. Was this ‘fraternization’? He didn’t really think so. He would do this for anyone under his command. No...no he knew that was a lie, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone. He wouldn’t have pried with just anyone. And he certainly couldn’t imagine holding Rhys like this in his lap. But as she shifted her head deeper into his neck, and he accommodated her, holding her closer, he decided: this wasn’t fraternization. He wasn’t trying to seduce her, this wasn’t dirty and wrong, this was...comradery. This was a closeness that many lovers never experienced. It was the kind of closeness forged in war, where pride meant nothing when a fellow soldier was in trouble. </p>
<p>“Danse?” he jumped. He hadn’t noticed her move while he was thinking. She was still in his lap, her legs around his waist, but she was looking at him now, her face red and splotchy after hours of crying, just inches from his own. </p>
<p>“Reagan.” he said simply. </p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said calmly “it wasn’t really fair to explode on you like that.” </p>
<p>“I don’t care if it was fair,” he said quickly, “I’m glad you told me, I don’t want there to be secrets between us.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure?” she smirked, “I think I should perhaps keep my opinion of your hat to myself,” and she made a face at his Paladin hood in the corner of the shack. </p>
<p>“It’s a hood not a hat...wait what’s wrong with it? You don’t like it?” she shifted in his lap.</p>
<p>“It’s not very flattering,” she said with humor, “you look better without it.” and she ran a hand through his hair. At first quickly, just once, but then her hand lingered. </p>
<p>“Hmm...I’ll try to remember that. I’d hate to be caught in an unflattering hood.” he said sarcastically. </p>
<p>She smiled and started to move. He helped untangle her from his lap as they both stood up. She was pressed up against his chest and his hands gripped her hips firmly. Danse felt himself sweating under his collar. This had seemed so innocent, but now that she was feeling better, it felt far more...inappropriate to be this close to her. He hadn’t really thought about it before but she was beautiful. He had noticed before now, of course, but it hadn’t meant anything to him. But now....he felt something in the pit of his stomach when he looked at her. A fluttering feeling that he’d never had around a fellow soldier. Her broad, fertile hips fit so well into his hands, and having her this close to him felt so right. Right in a way that he knew was wrong. He cleared his throat awkwardly, gently pushing her away, his hands still gripping her hips. He removed his hands and felt suddenly deprived to not have her in his arms.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>guys writing is hard</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had started to be more open with him, after telling him the truth about herself. She’d comment now, on things they encountered. She had reminisced about the last film she’d seen when they came across a drive-in movie theater, while he marveled at the culture of her time and all they had lost since then.  She told him a joke from her time, something that she had found very funny but that he didn’t understand. She’d confided in him why she loved cigarettes so much: they reminded her of good times from home, and were one of the few things that felt unchanged. She complained about the food of their time, describing the food from her time, which to him sounded beyond decadent. In the last four weeks he’d learned more about her than months before. He knew now that she was a terrible insomniac. She confided in him that she could only get a true nights sleep if she drank or drugged herself to excess. This was another reason she loved cigarettes so much, they kept her awake when she was dead on her feet. </p>
<p>Maxson had sent them on an utterly miserable patrol, wiping out dens of super mutants in the most barren empty parts of the Commonwealth, right on the edge of the Glowing Sea. There were few areas to rest and camp, sometimes they hadn’t been able to stop at all. They had been going for two days straight at this point, and both of them were feeling the strain of it. </p>
<p>“How many more Paladin?” Reagan groaned as they marched across the irradiated ground, the moon high in the sky. </p>
<p>“Four more” Danse responded, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice. </p>
<p>“I can’t...I can’t go any further we have to camp somewhere” </p>
<p>“Agreed. Keep an eye out for a shack Knight.” </p>
<p>A few hours later, he saw what looked like a narrow building in the distance. <br/>“Knight, do you see what I see?” </p>
<p>“Shelter!” Reagan nearly cried in relief and stumbled in the direction of the lonesome building. </p>
<p>It was extremely small, more of a closet space than anything. The shack could barely hold both of them. They would be pressed right up next to each other. </p>
<p>“Perhaps we can take shifts. You sleep first Knight, I can stay up.” Danse made the offer trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. He desperately wished to lay down. </p>
<p>“Danse...” her voice was unsure, and she didn’t use his title “I don’t mind laying next to you, if you don’t mind laying next to me, I probably won’t sleep anyway.” </p>
<p>“I don’t think that would be appropriate Knight.” </p>
<p>“What wouldn’t be appropriate Paladin, is to reduce your combat efficiency with lack of sleep.” Danse sighed, her logic was sound. </p>
<p>“Very well Knight, we’ll both sleep.” She smiled, self-satisfied, and began to set up their sleeping bags, while he stripped off his armor. By the time he was finished, she was already laying down. He crawled in next to her. The space was so tight there was no way to lay down with his body touching hers. She turned around to face him, and he felt her thighs and breasts brush against him. She removed her Pip-Boy and turned off the flashlight, and they were alone in the dark. For a moment, it was just the two of them breathing in the dark. Then she moved closer, maneuvering her head into the crook of his neck. He thought of pushing her away, he thought of telling her to act like a Knight to treat him like the superior he was, instead, he pulled her closer, taking her into his arms, and she sighed contentedly. Some time passed like this, just enjoying the feeling of her in his arms, when he decided to ask a question. </p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t you talk before?”</p>
<p>She breathed in and was silent for a moment. </p>
<p>“I was afraid.”</p>
<p>“Afraid of what?” </p>
<p>“I was afraid if I talked too much I would scream.” </p>
<p>“Is a little screaming so bad?” </p>
<p>“I thought if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. I felt like I could scream for the rest of my life.” He pulled her closer.<br/>His eyes were bleary when he woke up. Light was streaming into the shack, and he felt the soft warmth of Reagan in his arms. He turned to look at her and saw she was still sleeping, snoring gently against his chest, her legs entwined with his own. He yawned and stretched, trying not to jostle her. He hadn’t slept so well in ages. He was hesitant to wake her, not when he knew she rarely slept, so he waited until she woke up herself. It was nearly an hour later when he felt her moan softly against him. </p>
<p>“Mmmhmmm...what time is it?” </p>
<p>“I don’t really know. Maybe check your Pip-Boy?” She reached behind her and squinted at the green screen. </p>
<p>“Nearly 11? Did I really sleep that long?” She stretched contentedly, practically purring with satisfaction. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This final Super mutant den was really a nightmare. They were low on stimpacks, and they still had not taken down the leader of these abominations. He was a mutant among mutants with an unnaturally regenerating health, and a minigun he had certainly salvaged off a dead Brotherhood of Steel Knight. Reagan was taking a few remaining mutants on a wild goose chase, running and leaping away from the main battle site, blasting them with quick bursts from her automatic laser rifle. She was clearing the field so he could take on the boss. The opportunity was now, and he charged at the leader, firing directly at the beast’s misshapen head. Danse was a mere footfall away from the monster, he could then crush the creature’s skull between his hands, when he felt something crash into his back. He felt forward, and as his chest hit the ground, he coughed up blood. A hideous green foot pushed him onto his back and bellowed. The creature wielded a flaming sledgehammer that he was preparing to bring down straight onto Danse’s head. Danse tried to move, to grab the Super Mutant’s leg and pull him down, anything, but the Boss hammered his arm with Minigun fire and he screamed, feeling the flesh tear apart. </p>
<p>It was then that he heard a great shriek. But not of a Super Mutant, but a human woman. He and the Mutants turned to the sound, and as his eyes clouded, he saw Reagan running towards them. Her eyes were wild, and she had three syringes in her hands. She slammed them all into her arm, grunting as she did so, and pushed down on the plunger. As he lost consciousness he heard her scream “FUCKING KILL!” and then she charged.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I don't elaborate on the tackling sorry maybe another time</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a few weeks before he was deemed ready to return to active duty. Although he might not have been alive at all if not for Reagan. Maxson was pleased, both with the cleared out Super Mutant camps, and the quick thinking of the newest recruit. Danse...was less so. It had taken him awhile to figure it out, embarrassingly long in truth, but he realized how Reagan had saved him. She’d been tripping on psycho. And once he realized this, he realized that she had used psycho many times before. He had wondered how she had so quickly adapted to battle. She’d told him she had been through something called “basic training” in the US Navy, but then she’d taken an office job, she hadn’t ever been in combat. She’d been using psycho to keep her going in tough moments. </p>
<p>The thought of this had made him sick. He’d given her an earful of exactly what he thought of chem fiends. He’d yelled, he’d berated her for saving his life, for polluting herself with trash. She’d yelled right back. Called him ungrateful, a bastard, said she wished she’d never saved him. He’d ripped her dogtags from her neck, said she was unworthy of them, and she slapped his face and stormed off the Prydwen. Maxson decided to assign her to some scouting patrols in the Glowing Sea, for a couple weeks. That suited Danse just fine. But the longer she was gone, the more worried he got, and the more he regretted what he’d said. He couldn’t say he hadn’t meant it. He’d absolutely meant it at the time, but he now understood that it hadn’t expressed what he truly wanted to say. He’d wanted to tell her that she was too good to get addicted to something like psycho. That she deserved better than that trash. Instead, he’d told her she was trash. And now she was gone, in an irradiated wasteland and he wasn’t there to watch her back. </p>
<p>She was supposed to be back today, and Danse thought he was going insane. He’d been to the shooting range three times already. He’d drilled the new recruits practically to tears, and he was still anxious as hell. He was now pacing in his room. Pointlessly wearing out the soles of his shoes with worry, when he heard a sharp knock at his door. </p>
<p>“Paladin,” a fellow Brother barked through the door, “your Knight recruit has returned, check the med bay.”  </p>
<p>Danse practically ran to the med-bay, and was horrified at what he saw. Reagan was slumped in the patient chair, and unspeakably pale. She was holding some of her hair in her hands, it had fallen out. Her eyes were bloodshot, and rimmed with black rings. </p>
<p>“Danse?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. </p>
<p>“What happened to you?” he said, incapable of hiding the horror in his voice. </p>
<p>“She’s highly irradiated,” the doctor interrupted absently, working at his chemistry table, “a few infusions of RadAway and some bed rest and she’ll be fine. Haven’t seen a Knight as fucked up in a long time though.” </p>
<p>“I was tackled into some irradiated water, it leaves a mark I suppose.” Reagan whispered. <br/>“Tackled?” Danse asked. </p>
<p>“Later,” and she closed her eyes, “I don’t have the energy to talk.” </p>
<p>The doctor eventually shooed Danse out of the med-bay after promising to send Reagan to him after her treatments. At around midnight, Reagan finally appeared at Danse’s door. Her face had a much healthier pink tinge, and her hair had been cut into a short style, to even it out after she lost many handfuls. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her into his room and closing the door. She seemed surprised and looked at him in shock, “I never should’ve said any of those things about you, and your drug use, I didn’t express well what I meant.” </p>
<p>“I admit, that’s the last thing I was thinking about right now,” Reagan said, sitting on the edge of his bed, “but thank you, I appreciate your apology.” </p>
<p>“If you weren’t thinking about that, what were you thinking about?” </p>
<p>“Well,” and she fidgeted, twisting her hands together, “I need to request something and it’s somewhat uncomfortable.” He waited for her to continue. “The doctor says I need to sleep, and,” she laughed, “I would also really like to sleep. I barely slept during my time in the Glowing Sea and I just can’t take any more.” </p>
<p>“And?” </p>
<p>“I was hoping I could sleep here.” </p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>She sighed and her face turned a light pink, “I know it’s not protocol, I know. But the last time I slept well was with you, the night before we took down the Super Mutant compound. Please Paladin, please I need to sleep.” Danse raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was not what he expected. He coughed uncomfortably. Sleeping together like that was one thing in the field, but in the Prydwen? It could get them both in trouble. He was about to refuse, to reprimand her, when he looked in her pleading, bloodshot eyes. The dark circles are so heavy around them. </p>
<p>“You’ll have to leave before anyone wakes up. Nobody else on the Prydwen can know about this.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>SEX finally sex that was the whole point and we have made it. we're all gonna make it</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There wasn’t a time when they didn’t sleep together. Every night, for weeks now, when everyone else had gone to bed, Reagan would sneak to Paladin Danse’s room, and share his bed. He would hold her close and she would rest her head on his bare chest, and without fail, she would fall into a deep sleep. Sometimes he carried her back to her own bed, being very careful not to wake her. And sometimes he’d let her spend the whole night with him, safe against his warm chest. But without fail, she would come to him. </p>
<p>One night, while they were laying in bed, she asked him a question. </p>
<p>“Is this strange?” </p>
<p>“Hmm?” </p>
<p>“That we sleep together like this?” </p>
<p>“For comrades in the Brotherhood? Yes. For men and women throughout history? No.” </p>
<p>“Do you think of me as a woman?” </p>
<p>Danse laughed, “What else would I think of you as?” </p>
<p>“No I mean...do you think of me in the way that men think of women?”</p>
<p>Danse was suddenly very aware of holding her in his arms. Very aware of her soft, fertile form pressed close to him. </p>
<p>“I ahh...well. I’m a man and you're a woman so ahh yes I guess I must think of you as a man thinks of a woman.” </p>
<p>“Have you ever thought about making love to me?” </p>
<p>Just hearing her say that already had his heart racing. Already had him hard. Of course he’d thought of making love to her. Everytime he held her like this he thought of it. He remembered back, the first time he’d held her close, how sure he’d felt that it wasn’t “fraternization”. He was an idiot. </p>
<p>“Reagan please, I don’t even know what to say to that.” He tried to push her away, to put some space between them, but she followed his body, staying glued to his side. </p>
<p>“I’ve thought of it,” she said quietly, “I think of it a lot.”</p>
<p>“Do you,” he took a deep breath, any pretense that what they had was just friendship was going straight out the window, “do you want me to make love to you?” </p>
<p>She buried her face in his chest. “I think I’ve made it clear that I do. But if you don’t feel that way I...” he didn’t let her finish. He flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists as he ground his groin into her thigh, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Maybe he knew, maybe deep down he knew that this was destined to happen. Since that first night that he held her in his arms they were headed down this road. She moaned, rolling her hips against him. He released her lips and breathed raggedly. </p>
<p>He pulled at her shirt, and she took it off, revealing her breasts. He brushed his hand along her neck, down her chest, gently tracing her nipples. </p>
<p>“You’re so lovely,” he took a breast in his hand, kneading her nipple softly and she sighed, “I can’t begin to describe how lovely you are.” </p>
<p>She brought her hands to his back, and pulled him back into her. </p>
<p>“Then show me.” He crushed his lips into her, and moved his hand below her waistband, pushing aside her underwear and rubbing her clit in his fingers. </p>
<p>“Danse, I...yes ahh” she sighed and ground her sex into his hand. He was so hard it was nearly painful. Reagan moved her hand to remove his boxers, and he obliged her, removing them. She took his length into her hand and began to stroke him. </p>
<p>“Oh God Reagan....” he groaned. He had dreamed about her touching him like this, to have her soft, pre-war hands stroke his body. Danse pushed his fingers into her vagina, and she moaned. “God Reagan you’re so wet,” he sighed. She kissed down his neck and rolled him over, pinning him to the bed. She ran her hands up and down his chest. </p>
<p>“Let me show you....let me show you how I feel..” and she dipped her head, to take his length into her mouth. Danse groaned loudly as she took him into her mouth. He’d had sex before, but it had never been like this. He knew only quick trysts. Fast and dirty moments with women of questionable character. Nothing like this. Nothing like her sucking the head of his cock and running her tongue along his shaft. Nothing like the soft mewling sounds she made. Nothing like her soft hands lovingly touching him. </p>
<p>“Reagan I....” if she kept going the night would end before it really began. He gently tilted up her chin, and brought her to him, kissing her deeply. He then pulled off her pants and underwear, throwing her on her back while she giggled. </p>
<p>He pressed his body into her kissing her neck and working his way down. </p>
<p>“Now let me show you darling. Let me show you my gratitude.” But as he was about to taste her, she stopped him. <br/>“Your gratitude?” she repeated, confused. </p>
<p>“You saved my life,” he said, smiling, his heart full of an emotion he couldn’t yet name</p>
<p>“Is that why you’re doing this?” she blanched, drawing her legs to herself, “because you think you owe me something” She looked like she was about to cry, and he realized his mistake. </p>
<p>He pulled her legs towards him, and pinned her to the bed. She looked away. </p>
<p>“Look at me Reagan so I know you can hear me,” she grudgingly turned to face him, her eyes shimmering, “I’m doing this because I’ve wanted to make love to you for so long it would be shameful to admit it. I’m doing this because after weeks of holding you in my arms I can’t resist any longer. I’m doing this because I can’t wait anymore to show you how I feel.” He opened her legs and finally tasted her. She sighed, her voice trembling with pleasure. He made small circles around her clit with his tongue as she wound her fingers in his hair. The sounds she made were driving him crazy, and his cock was painfully hard. </p>
<p>“Oh God Danse please, I want you so much please” </p>
<p>He didn’t need any more encouragement. Moved to capture her lips as he lined up his length with her opening and gently pushed into her. She was so hot, so wet and hot and tight and he moaned loudly as he entered her. She wrapped her legs around his and her hands gripped at his shoulders as he thrust into her. </p>
<p>He flipped her onto her hands and knees and pressed into her again. She kept moaning and he could tell she was close. As he thrust, he reached his hand around to rub her clit and she cried out, her walls tightening around him as she came. He pulled her, her back pressing into his chest as he continued to thrust and was reaching his own end. </p>
<p>“Baby I’m gonna cum,” he grunted and she moaned. A few more thrusts and he came, shooting into her as he whispered words of passion and love into her ear.</p>
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